A Second Chance
by Poopburp
Summary: What if Teddy didn't relapse? Slash.


**Fandom:** Shutter Island  
**Characters/Pairing:** Teddy/Chuck**  
****Warnings:** Spoilers for the film, slash

_A Second Chance_

From the moment I sit down on that bed, the one I'd been sleeping in for two years, I know I'm not Teddy Daniels anymore. Everything comes rushing back as soon as I grab those covers, try to hide my crying face in that pillow, look up at my partner, my doctor - my friend - from that mattress. I can almost smell my old life in those sheets - the old rose perfume Dolores used to wear and the whiskey I'd drink to block her out.

Lester frowns, and puts his hand on my shoulder, which is still wet from the dripping shirt that's clinging to my back. I attempt to smile at him, but almost break down in tears as soon as the edges of my mouth curve. "Doctor Cawley.. can we have some time, please?" I can barely say the last word from my lip trembling so much, and I have to muster all the calm I have not to start weeping there and then in front of him. Cawley nods at me, and leaves the room silently.

Lester keeps his eye on me, alternating between sighing and glaring at me with concern while fumbling with his tie. Finally, he leans in to say something. "Listen, boss-" I glare up at him, silently fuming.  
"Lester. Don't you," I swallow, biting back tears, "ever call me that again. Or Teddy."  
"Sorry.. Andrew. I've been callin' you that for so long, y'know?" he says, as he pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales. "I'll see you in the mornin', yeah? Get some rest."  
I nod, and he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him quietly. Slumping onto the thin mattress, still wearing my dripping clothes, I close my eyes and exhale.

When I open them again, I find myself sitting in my old apartment, on top of a wooden chest. The walls are covered with beige wallpaper, the floor's been re-carpeted, and I'm wearing black pants and a blue shirt. The ash is still here, but it's different this time. The particles are white, like volcanic powder, like snow. They cover the walls like they've been glued there, and some of the dust is simply stuck in mid-air.  
Suddenly, there's a hand tensing on my shoulder. I feel like I'm breathing smoke as Chuck - not Lester - turns to face me. He smiles sadly, and buries his face in my shirt while inhaling deeply. "Teddy," he whispers through the fabric, "I've missed you."

I wake up in a cold sweat to find Lester sitting on the edge of my bed, looking worried and twiddling his thumbs. "You alright.. Teddy? I think I've figured out our next move," he exhales.

I frown at him, and think about what he's just said. He thinks I've relapsed?  
"I told you not to call me that, doc," I grin. He looks up at me, and I swear the bastard's about to cry with relief. "Andrew?" he says with hesitation, "It's you?"  
I nod weakly, and get out of the bed that seems so new to me. My clothes are wet - I'm not sure if it's the salt water or sweat. Lester's still staring at me like I'm some oddity, and I can feel his eyes follow me around the room as I put my navy jacket on. Lester and I walk out of the room together, striding in synchronisation with each other.  
"Still having those dreams? Cawley said you'd probably keep having them for a while," he says. I nod, and he gestures for me to elaborate.

"It's.. the same as usual. I'm in the house, with Dolores. The ash is still falling, and she's.. bleeding," I murmur flatly. We approach the stone steps of the entrance to the ward, and start to walk through the garden that's being watched over by guards. Men that, less than a day ago, were all out to get me. It's a strange thought that a man's mind can be restored so suddenly. At least, that's what I hope it is - I feel like I can't trust my eyes to show me the truth anymore. We stop behind a large hedge, and Lester looks at me, dead serious. "Andrew, if you keep showing this sort of improvement.. Cawley might consider sending you back home, under house arrest." My eyes widen at this, and I grab Lester by his collar.

"Chu- Lester. I'm a fucking.. I'm a murderer. How can you," I glare at him, "how can you send me back home? I'm meant to be in jail, goddamn it! You can't just send me home and pretend nothing's happened!" I'm almost shouting now. Lester nods slowly, and mouths, 'I know'.  
"Andrew, look at me. We've told the public that we could make you completely healthy. A perfect citizen. Now, in order to do that - Andrew, look at me -" he lowers his voice, "we'd have to send you home, to demonstrate this. You'll be under house arrest, and I'll be staying with you, alright?" he looks back up at me hopefully. This is wrong, I tell myself.  
"Lester - the fuckers are goddamn corrupted.. Jesus! They're risking letting me loose for the good press?" I push him back against the hedge. "Do I even get any say in this?"  
"No."

After Lester said that word, bluntly, I felt something sharp sink into my arm, and I think I might have hit my head on a rock as I went down. I heard Cawley's voice, later on, but I could have been dreaming. I saw myself walking next to Lester while he took my body to the docks on a stretcher. I remember hearing the ferry's horn, the crash of the waves, and the creak of the ferry. I remember feeling Dolores's hair brush against my face, her tears on my neck, her soothing voice in my ears.

I'm half asleep now, slipping between reality and delusion. I can hear Lester's voice fade in, out, and morph into my wife's singing. When I finally open my eyes, the harsh white light almost blinds me, and as I turn around I can feel bedsheets brush against my back. I notice my hair's been washed. I can hear whistling coming from another room as I sit up. Moving slowly, so I don't induce a vertigo spell, I get out of the bed and start to look around the room. A mahogany wardrobe sits in the corner, next to a rectangular mirror that's ornately carved around the edges. Floral red and pink wallpaper decorates the walls, and I notice that the door in front of me has been left open. I walk slowly towards the doorway, and hear a 'I think he might be awake' from the next room. I walk in to find Cawley and Lester sipping coffee. Holding back a growl, I sit down on the beige couch and hurl one of the mugs against the wall.

"Woah, woah, Andrew," Lester reaches for me, "I know we didn't exactly part under pleasant circumstances, but fuck! Aren't you happy you're finally out? You wanted to get off the island, didn't you?" Cawley nods at this.  
"If we can keep this under wraps - which we will -" he begins, "you'll be able to live a relatively normal life. It'll be just like you were back home, yeah?" he attempts a nervous smile as he rises from his seat. I slump against the couch, my eyes shut, nodding weakly. I'm still woozy from the sedative. "I - okay, alright. As long as you.. Lester, as long as you make sure I can't hurt anyone." I breathe.

Lester catches me as I slip towards the ground. When I open my eyes again, I'm propped up against the arm of the couch, and Cawley and Lester are both gone. I start to worry if they were ever there at all, until Lester comes up behind me and helps me onto my feet. "You won't hurt anyone, Andrew. Don't you worry," he smiles reassuringly. "First thing's first - we'll need to discuss those dreams you've been having."  
I frown back at him. "Lester, I already told you, I-" He cuts me off my placing a hand on my shoulder.  
"No, you didn't. I've been your doctor for two years, Andrew. I know when you're lying, believe me. Now, tell me about your dreams. Have they changed?" Lester's placed his head in his hands now, and is resting against the arm of the couch opposite mine. I swallow.

"..Yeah, they have, I.." he motions for me to continue, "I've been walking into our old apartment. But it's new. All new. The furniture's gone, and there's some chest on the ground, and the ash.. The ash isn't like it was before. I turn around, and I'm smoking a cigarette, and you're there." I exhale. Lester looks at me quizzically and opens his mouth to speak.  
"I'm there?" he cocks his head to one side, and I exhale again.  
"You're not you. You're Chuck, and, well, you're saying how much y'missed me. I'm not.. myself either." Lester scribbles something down on a piece of paper I didn't know he had, and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. He offers one to me, and I take one. It's been far too long since I've had a smoke. Two days.

It's around two in the morning, and I can hear Lester breathing quietly in the next room. I looked in his suitcase earlier today. I guess I'm more of a risk than I thought. He had morphine in there, sedatives. I could kill for a fucking cigarette.  
I slip out of bed, still in the clothes I was wearing yesterday. Quietly, I try to walk into the doc's room without waking him - his suitcase is leaning against the wall on the other side of his bed. If I can reach it, then maybe I'll be able to swipe a pack or two.. I'm around halfway there when Lester stirs - nothing big, I tell myself, my heart still pounding in my ears. I feel like I'm seven again, sneaking into the kitchen after dark to get some ice cream. This time, after my thirteenth step, Lester finally wakes up, and I'm too scared to move before he slams me against the wall, studying my face. "Were you tryin' to get some morphine, Andrew? Trying to sedate me?" his voice is calm.

At this point, I'm unsure what to do. Do I bolt, confess? I can't run, because he's pinning me against the wall - I'm too scared to confess - so I try to think of something crazy, something Teddy would do.  
So I lean in closer to Lester - Chuck - and I kiss him. His eyes widen as our noses bump, and he pulls away in the dark, looks at me like he's trying to find something, something that shows I was joking, or I'm drunk or half asleep. Anything. I can almost feel him glaring at me, as he tightens his grip on my shoulders.

The next look is unexpected. I've seen him direct this at nurses, the occasional doctor, but Lester Sheehan has never, ever looked at me in this way. It scares me. He exhales softly, and whispers in my ear, lips almost touching the lobe. "You sure you want this?" I only have to nod slightly in confirmation and he's grabbing my jacket by the collar, and licking up my jawline. God, I think through the haze, if only every doctor had this sorta bedside manner.. "Lester, I, uh.." He bites into my neck, making my mouth fall open into a silent scream, and looks up at me.

"Teddy. It's Chuck. I don't wanna go back to how things were," he breathes. His hand lingers on the back of my neck as he pulls me closer into an awkward hug. I sigh quietly, remembering Dolores, but try to put her at the back of my mind. He kisses me again and bites, and I can taste copper running in my mouth. I start thinking about my wife again, but as he grabs my belt, I tell myself, Teddy, you needa stop thinking.


End file.
